


Tea and Coffee

by Eli (AisukuriMuStudio)



Category: Tales of Berseria, Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Child Abuse, Eating Disorders, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Gay Magilou, Slow Burn, Tales of Femslash Week 2017
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-04 05:29:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11548461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AisukuriMuStudio/pseuds/Eli
Summary: Colette Brunel is a famous mythologist, historian, and author. Velvet Crowe is a small-time police officer who doesn't have her life together. Laphicet is the thread that draws them together.Written for Tales of Femslash Week 2017, Day 3: Storybook.[Formerly titled "Book Signing"]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a oneshot... it got away from me rip. Please forgive the terrible title, the title is a wip.
> 
> More tags to be added as they become relevant!

It all started with a storybook.

Laphicet was ten years old now, and beyond such superficial books. This was what surprised Velvet most when he asked for a picture book for his birthday. The astonishment must have shown on her face, because the boy immediately clarified his interest, saying, “The author is very well-known, Velvet; I've asked you for some of her more scholarly books before. She's an expert in the field, and the fact that she's publishing books aimed at children only means she's incorporating her vast knowledge at a level that children will be able to understand.”

Which was good enough for Velvet, honestly. So she bought the storybook for him, but as the months passed, Laphi only asked for more and more of the author's children's books, and though Velvet was curious, she didn't want to seem as if she was criticizing him. She remained silent, and bought them when her wallet allowed.

Then came the day that Laphi handed Velvet a flyer, one that advertised a book signing. By now Velvet recognized the author's name, though she was unfamiliar with whatever she wrote, and she looked at her brother, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“This is on a Saturday,” Velvet said to him, as serious as could be. “Laphi, I work on Saturdays.” They didn't have Artorius around anymore to take Laphi to events he was interested in; she might be able to ask Rokurou, but she didn't want to burden him.

(Beyond that, the thought of introducing Rokurou to Laphi was … an unfavorable one, though for reasons Velvet couldn't quite put into words.)

“I know it's short notice,” Laphi protested, his face serious and intense. “But you could always ask someone to cover for you. _Please_ , Velvet, won't you at least _try_?”

She knew that Chief Hume would probably have words to say about this. She could already hear the woman's voice in her head; 'Velvet, you're my best officer!' But perhaps if Velvet emphasized the fact this day was for her brother, Hume would be more agreeable. Ever since she met Laphi during Bring-Your-Kid-to-Work Day (which Velvet supposed he _wasn't_ her kid, but he was close enough, as a dependent and a minor), Hume seemed to have some degree of weakness for the boy.

“All right,” Velvet conceded. The look on her brother's face had been worth the inconvenience.

* * *

 

“Hey, Rangestu. Cover for me on Saturday the 20th, will you?”

Rokurou looked up from where he was hunched over his desk; the moment his eyes met hers, a grin split across his face. “How many times do I have to tell you, you don't have to call me Rangetsu while we're at work,” he said with a pleased lilt to his voice that conveyed the exact opposite of his meaning. “I mean, sure, I can do that. What's going on?”

“Laphi wants to go to a book signing,” Velvet said. “And I'm going to call you that at work, because at work, we're coworkers.”

“We're _lovers_ 'round the clock, Velvet.” He sounded amused, more than anything, but he still nodded. “Don't worry about that shift, though. I'll convince Eleanor to sign off on it.” Referring to a superior officer by her first name was no doubt a sign of disrespect, but Velvet got the feeling that Rokurou was doing it as a term of endearment. “Tell the kid I say hi, yeah?”

She nodded. “I will.”

He reached up and kissed her cheek, before the both of them got back to work.

* * *

 

The day of the signing came.

Laphicet insisted on bringing his entire collection of the author's work for her to sign, which meant they each brought two canvas bags full of them. She let Laphi carry the storybooks, which were lighter and took up less space. She carried the “scholarly work,” as Laphicet called them; they were thick tomes, and she wasn't quite sure what information they contained. When they took their seats, she set their bags in front of them, and she caught a glimpse of title; something about mythology.

She wondered if this author was as good as Laphi claimed she was. Perhaps she should have read a few of this author's works beforehand, so she would know what exactly this signing was going to entail. But it was too late for that.

She noticed that there were many people in this bookstore signing, more than she had expected. Many of them were adults, even; not children like Laphi's age. Some of them must have been twice or three times her own.

“She's very acclaimed,” Laphi whispered to her when she pointed it out. “Critics have called her the 'mythologist of the century.' Though she's a historian, too, but I think her work on mythology is much more interesting. The children's books she's published are obscure myths and fables retold for the modern age. You should read one of them sometime.”

“Hey,” Velvet said with a scoff, “are you saying I couldn't handle one of her books for adults? That's _rude_ , Laphi!” And Laphi had laughed, which was exactly what Velvet had meant to accomplish.

Then a woman came up to the table at the front of the seating area, and everything went quiet. Velvet blinked.

This woman was _gorgeous_. She had long, blond hair that reached below her waist, and her eyes were such a bright blue that Velvet could pick out their color even from this far away. Her face was soft and her expression warm. The way she carried herself was with an elegant poise, as if she had carried the world on her shoulders and this was nothing in comparison.

Velvet was overwhelmed, for a moment that seemed to stretch for hours, and the world seemed in slow motion as she and the author met eyes for the briefest of seconds.

Then the author tripped, colliding with the table that had been set up.

An employee of the store immediately rushed to her side, microphone in hand, but the author laughed – a bright laugh, though it sounded embarrassed – and insisted she was fine. When she took the microphone and turned to face her audience, Velvet saw a bruise beginning to form on the woman's forehead.

“Hello, everyone,” she began with a smile on her face. “Sorry you guys had to see that! I'm sure you all know, but my name is Colette Brunel, and it is an honor to be with you today.”

Her voice was soft and sweet. Velvet wondered if she had taken any kind of vocal training to make it be so even and angelic. This woman …

Colette would make an extraordinary friend, she couldn't help but think.

“As many of you know, I have begun writing children's books,” Colette continued. “This was an effort between my colleague, Raine Sage, and myself. Miss Raine is an archeologist, and she and I have worked together to understand societies that no longer exist. In particular, my efforts have been to revitalize the stories that these societies told. The myths that I want to share with adults and children alike are ones that we have worked day and night to translate and interpret accurately.

“There are not many mythologists these days, or historians, but what people don't understand is that there is an infinite number of ways to interpret an individual myth. Because no people of the societies that told these stories live, and none of their descendants can remember the tale well enough to tell it themselves, it is up to later generations to try to restore their stories to their truest extent. I wouldn't go as far to say that I've done that, but I would say that I am getting close.

“For those of you who read my work _Myths of the Age of Kharlan,_ know that Miss Raine was an invaluable source of information, and that work would not be the same without her insight.” Colette turned now to a woman who sat in the front row. “If any of you have any questions about the particulars of our research, I would recommend you direct them to her.

“But for now.” Colette then reached for her table and picked up one of the flat storybooks. This one had a picture of a tree that towered over the tiny people beneath it, who looked like ants in comparison. “How about I read _The Tree of Life_ for the little ones present?”

Velvet could almost hear the collective disappointed sigh from the adults; but Laphicet picked up his bags. “Come on,” he urged her, and the two of them made their way toward the front to get a better view of the story, though Velvet was sure Laphicet had read this one before.

Velvet had never been struck quite like this by anyone before. As Colette read, Velvet was certain that she _must_ befriend this woman. If nothing else, so that Laphi could have her visit whenever he wanted.

It was time to take advantage of the situation; something Velvet was _very_ good at.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for fans of Velvet/Rokurou, but they're not meant to be in this fic. I wanted to write a story that involved a woman realizing she was a lesbian, while she was dating a man. Don't get too invested in their relationship! (But don't worry, I won't make this a huge source of drama; it'll be part of the plot of course, but not a MAJOR plot point.)
> 
> Feedback is appreciated! ❤


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Velvet and Laphi meet Colette, Velvet has a bizarre conversation with Magilou, and Colette pays the siblings a visit.

The line immediately following the author's speaking was long. Laphi managed to get them a good spot in line, but every person seemed to want to have a scholarly discussion with Colette. Even with her assistant, the platinum-haired woman that Colette had gestured to in the first row, ushering everyone along, it seemed to take time. Of course, Laphi was among these people, and when they reached the table, Colette had a bright smile plastered on her face.

“Hello.” Though she spoke to both of them, her eyes were on Laphi, and Velvet felt her respect for this woman grow. “Thank you for coming to my signing. Can I have your names?”

“My name is Laphicet,” Laphi replied, and then he put the stack of storybooks he'd been carrying on the table and waited for Velvet to place the tomes on there as well. “This is my sister Velvet. I'm an enthusiast, and I love your work!”

Colette's smile grew even brighter and she looked between the two of them. “I'll be honest, I don't have many fans as young as you,” she said as she took the first book, opened it, and clicked her pen to begin. “When did you begin reading my work?”

“When I was eight,” Laphicet replied earnestly, and he leaned onto the table, elbows resting on the surface. He was only barely tall enough to do so without looking ridiculous. “The very first one I read was about your research of the civilizations during the Kharlan War. You worked together with a sociologist by the name of Lualdi.”

“Of course!” Colette clapped her hands together, pausing her signing in order to do so. “I remember that very well! I worked very closely with her for several years. She's an amazing young woman, though she's married now, so she's actually Marta Lualdi-Castagnier.”

Velvet didn't quite understand what they were talking about, but she did know that Colette seemed to almost vibrate with happiness. “Colette.” A voice cut in, the voice of the woman with the snow-white hair. “You _do_ have a line.”

The author seemed immediately stressed by this, and she turned to Velvet as she closed the book she was signing. “Miss Velvet, your brother is very well-read for someone his age. I would love to speak to the two of you more, but I do have others' books to sign. Would you be willing to exchange contact information with me so that we might see each other again?”

Velvet couldn't help the little half-smile that took her lips. Laphicet turned to her immediately, and he was begging with his eyes, though he needn't have bothered. What a stroke of luck, that Colette had offered her information without any prompting at all. “Of course. If you're genuine, then I would love to provide this opportunity for Laphicet.”

“Thank goodness,” Colette said with a small laugh, and she handed Velvet a flyer. “Write your number down here; sorry, it's the only paper I have.”

With their phone numbers exchanged, the other woman began ushering them to pick up their books and make their way out. (“Raine, there's no need for that—” “Colette, _you have a line._ ”) Even with their rushed exit, both Velvet and Laphicet left with a spring in their steps.

This was a good sign.

* * *

“Wait, sorry, describe that again, Vel.”

Velvet let out an annoyed sigh, her phone pressed between her ear and shoulder as she was chopping meat. “Are you even listening to me, Magilou?”

“I _am_!” Magilou protested, her voice sounding even shriller over the telephone. “That's _why_ I need you to describe it again! Tell me _everything_ you just said again, _exactly_ the same way.”

“If you were listening, then you wouldn't need me to repeat it 'exactly the same way.'”

Magilou's huff of air was full of static, and Velvet cringed at the sound. No doubt Magilou did that on purpose. “Listen, listen. From one woman to another, _tell me again._ ”

“Fine.” Velvet sighed again, so that Magilou knew just how _annoying_ Velvet found her demands. “Though I don't see why you need to hear this again. She was like an angel. I don't use that word lightly. She carried herself like one, spoke like one, looked like one, _walked_ like one—”

“You said she tripped.”

“Maybe some angels aren't physically coordinated,” Velvet replied, only to receive another snort over the phone. “I just have a feeling about this woman. I think she'll be good for Laphicet, academically speaking and socially. He doesn't have very many friends, you know, which worries me. And that aside, I think she'd be a good friend, too, just by her mannerisms.”

“Vel,” Magilou cut in, using that irritating nickname again, “I gotta tell you, my gaydar is going off.”

Velvet hummed at that, considering her memory of the woman. “I suppose she might have been, though I'm not knowledgeable enough to be able to tell…”

“ _No_.” Another huff, though this one wasn't directly into the microphone. “I mean _you. You're_ the one making my gaydar go off.”

Velvet blinked, and was silent for a moment, her hands stopping their work at the cutting board. When she finally found words, they were, “I'm dating Rokurou, Magilou.”

“I know,” Magilou replied, and she cleared her throat. “But listen. As a gay woman myself, I like to think I know how a woman who has _romantic_ feelings for another woman sounds. I'm not going to tell you to call yourself one thing or another, but Velvet, you sound _super_ gay.”

“I just want to be her friend,” Velvet said, a note of irritation in her voice. “There isn't anything _gay_ about that. Or lesbian, or whatever.”

“Sure,” Magilou replied. “But you have to admit, the fact you're willing to let an absolute stranger come over and hang out with Laphicet, and not _Rokurou_ , says a lot.”

“Magilou.” Velvet's voice lowered, no longer casual or trite. “Enough.”

There was a long, pregnant pause, and Velvet found herself unable to pick up the knife, unable to continue. There was too much going on for her to entertain Magilou's bizarre subjects of conversation. And then—

“Hey, did you hear about that festival they're doing in town this weekend, to celebrate the town's whatever anniversary? There's gonna be alcohol. You should come with me and Eizen; he's bringing his little sister, so you should totally bring Laphi…”

And Velvet could continue making dinner again.

* * *

Colette's visit a week later was heralded not by a knock on the door or the ring of a bell, but by a simple text message.

_Sorry to bother you, but which complex are you in? All of these buildings look the same to me...! Sorry!_

Velvet chuckled and typed a quick reply. _I'll stand outside so you can find us._ She got to her feet, grabbed her winter coat (black and made of alfalfa wool), and called, “Laphi, I'm going outside for a moment.”

When Laphi called back to show he'd heard, she made her way out the door and down the stairs of the apartment complex.

It was a cold, brisk January night. As she braced against the frigid air, she wrapped her arms around herself and thought she should have grabbed gloves and a scarf, too. It was too late now, and she scanned the area for a car.

It wasn't long before a white Audi pulled down onto the street, lights signaling its entrance before it even was visible. Velvet put her hand up to shield against the lighting, but upon seeing the driver, held up her hand to wave.

Colette pulled in at the nearest spot and hopped out of the car, locking it behind her. When she came closer, Velvet saw she wore a thick white coat, matching white gloves, white scarf, a white ushanka hat. Even her winter boots were white, and Velvet marveled for a moment at how Colette must be very careful to keep them pristine.

“Miss Velvet!” Colette greeted with a bright smile on her face. And then her smile dropped, and with it, Velvet's heart. “Oh, you're hardly dressed for this weather. Here, let me give you my scarf—”

“Colette, it's fine,” Velvet tried to argue; they were going to be inside in mere moments. But Colette ignored her protests and removed her scarf from her neck, and swung it around Velvet's, taking care to wrap it several times, and then to reach behind her and pull her hair out of the scarf's grasp.

 

Velvet was stunned. That was the only explanation for her lack of action; she blinked at Colette, though the woman seemed oblivious to Velvet's bewilderment. She even _hummed_ as she did this. She smelled of lavender.

“Oh, you're getting red,” Colette said, and suddenly the moment was broken; Velvet immediately reached up to cover her cheeks, and she wondered why she was so _warm_ out of nowhere. Was it just the scarf? “We should head inside before you freeze to death out here.”

“I'm not going to freeze to death,” Velvet insisted, but Colette only turned to the apartment building. Velvet sighed and shook her head. “Yeah. All right, this way.”

Velvet was more aware of the state of her apartment when Colette was _in_ it than she had been mere moments before. It was a small two-bedroom apartment. Dishes were piled in the sink, unwashed; there were at least five ceiling-high bookcases surrounding the living area, and though all of them were filled with books, tomes still littered the apartment. Whether pressed against the wall in tall stacks, or set on the couch in smaller ones, or left on the counter with bookmarks (plural) sticking out of them, they made the place seem more cluttered than it should have been. Laphicet had left his homework on the dining table while he took a break, no doubt curled up with _another_ book in his bedroom.

One small mercy was that there was no trash visible.

“Oh, is this his?” Colette asked, keeping her voice soft and quiet as she moved to the dining table. She made no comment on the plethora of books, as if she was used to it. She leaned against the table with one hand, her hair falling to one side, revealing her neck to Velvet. Velvet's eyes lingered longer than was decent, and so she directed her attention to the homework as she came to Colette's side.

“Yes,” she said, and she removed the scarf Colette had placed around her neck. The scent of lavender still lingered in her senses. “He attends the public high school. He's been offered scholarships from private ones, but he said he didn't want to put more pressure on me, even _when_ I told him it'd be fine.” Her heart swelled as she spoke of Laphicet's kindness. The boy was still so young, and as such Velvet was very careful not to tell him anything too revealing about their financial situation, but he was sensitive to it anyway.

Colette hummed, and she removed her gloves from her hands, eyes still on the papers in front of her. “He must be very lonely,” she said. Velvet didn't know how to respond to that. Colette let out a small sigh. “Very few teenagers want to befriend a boy so young. They don't have many things to relate to, with that many years apart.”

Velvet felt wordless. Of course Colette was right. Laphicet talked about school frequently, because he enjoyed his lessons and he enjoyed _learning_ with a vigor that Velvet hoped would be constant throughout his life, but Laphicet never asked to stay over at a friend's house, or to invite a friend over, nor had he ever expressed an interest in any of the school's social activities.

But... “I do...” Velvet paused, because her words seemed inadequate. Colette lifted her head, and her blue eyes met Velvet's brown. “I do worry, Colette. I appreciate your concern for him. But I don't want him to think I'm being overbearing. He's had enough of that.”

And she knew, in that moment, that Colette wouldn't have enough of the context to understand what she was talking about. Of course not; Velvet hadn't given any of it to her. But something about the way Colette's face shifted, without breaking eye contact, told her that Colette understood well enough.

Laphicet emerged from his room then, and Velvet saw a certain shyness to his posture that was not usually there. “I heard Miss Brunel's voice,” he said as an explanation for his appearance, and then he turned to Colette and bowed his head to her. “Welcome to our home.”

Immediately Colette put her hand up and waved it, as if dismissing the gesture. “Oh no, no, please, there's no need for that,” she said quickly, and her face had turned a bright pink; Laphi lifted his head as she bid. “And please, call me Colette. I'd like to talk to you about what you think of my work, but if you have homework to do, then by all means, please finish that first.”

“It's extra credit!” Laphi burst, an intensity filling up his eyes. Yes, now _that_ was a look Velvet was familiar with. “So it's okay! Right, Velvet?” And then he spun his gaze to her.

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “If I asked Ms. Linares about this homework, would she say the same thing, Laphi?”

“She would!”

Laphi's voice was firm, which meant he wasn't lying. Velvet had no other reason to object to this, so she shrugged. “All right. I'll make drinks for everyone.”

“Can I have juice?” Laphi asked, his tone more excited than it probably should have been for a ten-year-old going on eleven.

Colette's eyes seemed to light up with his. “What kind of teas do you have?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notice that the chapter total jumped... I've got an ending in mind, but I thought of a potential plot point, and now I really want to work it in. We'll see if it comes to fruition or ends up falling through.
> 
> Also I probably should've said this before (whoops!) but I haven't finished Berseria yet. I think I'm at about 15 hours in? I just got Eleanor in my party. So there's a lot I haven't done. So if anything I've written (or am going to write) seems contradictory to their characters, I'm sorry!
> 
> EDIT: I've added the fanart that the LOVELY fanart that Kittykatzvillage did! Check it out on tumblr [here](http://kittykatzvillage.tumblr.com/post/164236802510/) and please reblog it, it's gorgeous!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter from Colette's perspective. We get to meet an old friend of hers, who she asks for advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please pay attention to the new tags. If you don't want to scroll up, I'll just warn you here: this chapter discusses eating disordered behavior, though nothing too in-depth. Just take care of yourself! (Click the "end notes" link to see a summary of this chapter if that would trigger you but you still want to keep reading.)

Colette was enraptured by the young boy before her. Laphicet spoke with an eloquence and enthusiasm that befit an expert, but with the hesitation of an amateur. Throughout their conversation it was a constant reminder of his age, and yet it made him seem _more_ impressive rather than less. This subject was above Velvet's comprehension level, if her expression was anything to go by. Colette wondered how often Laphi got the chance to discuss his interests with such depth.

As their discussion began to wind down, Colette took a final sip from her third mug of coffee and found that it had gotten cold, beyond room temperature. She glanced to the clock and found bright blue numbers glaring at her from the oven. “Oh dear,” she said, turning to Laphi. “Isn't it past your bedtime? It's almost midnight! I'm so sorry to keep you up so late.”

Velvet let out a soft laugh; a small, gruff sound that Colette found she adored. She hadn't heard Velvet laugh before; she wished she could hear it more often. “He stays up this late anyways. Always hiding under the covers with a book and his phone to use as a light.” Velvet looked to her younger brother and her voice became stern, almost scolding. “None of that today, young man. Brush your teeth, and then straight to bed – and by that, you _know_ I mean straight to _sleep_. Got it?”

“I got it,” Laphi grumbled, and the annoyance in his tone was so cute it made Colette giggle. He turned to her when he heard that, and a smile drifted across his face. “Will I get to see you again, Colette?”

“In due time,” Colette said, and returned the expression. “Now go on, do as your sister bids. Velvet and I still need to talk, but she'll follow suit soon enough.”

Velvet cast Colette a curious glance, but Colette didn't dare return the look. It was only when Laphi had gone into the hall and the sound of a door closing reverberated through the apartment that Colette turned to the woman again.

“What do we have to discuss?” Velvet asked, her arms now folded across her chest, and it looked like a defensive stance to Colette, as if she were preparing for battle. Colette softened before she spoke.

“If it is agreeable to you, Miss Velvet, I would like to offer your brother a mentorship.” Velvet's eyes widened, her posture stiffened, but Colette barreled forward, determined to offset any objects Velvet might have before she made them. “It will, of course, be outside of school hours. Once a week, on whatever day and whatever time best suits your schedule, I'll meet with him for one hour. I do have an hourly rate of – ”

“We can't afford it,” Velvet interrupted, and now it was Colette's turn to look at her in surprise. “If I wasn't our only source of income, Colette, I would take this in a heartbeat. Believe me, I would. But as it is, I can't afford anything over fifty a month.”

Colette could tell Velvet was being careful with her words and the way she spoke them; even still, some of the pain Velvet must have been feeling leaked into her refusal. Despite this, she was still tense and her arms remained in their crossed position.

“Perhaps I could offer him a scholarship,” Colette suggested. Now rather than seeming curious or defensive, Velvet's eyes narrowed. Colette wasn't sure what that meant. Was she angry? Had Colette made some sort of misstep? “I would be willing to lower the rate for Laphicet. Fifty a month, four sessions a month. What do you say?” It was a huge discount; it was less than the cost of _one_ session. But she had a feeling about Laphicet, and she wanted to see him grow.

Velvet was quiet. For a long, arduous moment, she was silent as the morning before the sun, and Colette felt as though she was holding her breath, though she did not know Velvet's hesitation. Finally, she said, “I will think about it.” And Colette supposed that was better than nothing at all, certainly. “I will text you when I have an answer.”

That sounded like a dismissal. Colette stood, brushing the wrinkles from her skirt as she did. “Thank you for having me over,” she said as she looked to Velvet. “I'd better get going.”

Velvet blinked at Colette, the scary expression gone from her face, and the tension vanished from the room. “What?” she said, surprise in her voice as Velvet jumped to her feet as well, already moving towards the living room. “No, it's so late. You'll stay on the futon.”

“Oh, there's no need—”

Velvet spun on her heel, and when her eyes met Colette's, they were hard, scary. Colette couldn't speak. “You're staying on the damn futon.”

And it _was_ late. Colette knew the area well, had lived in this town for all of her life, but she wasn't prepared to argue with that stubborn expression on Velvet's face.

Still, as Colette laid on the pull-out couch, looking up at the ceiling – Velvet having gone to bed a while ago – she found herself wondering if she had put herself in a bit of a sticky situation, one she wasn't sure she could get herself out of.

* * *

“Conflict of interest?”

Lloyd spoke with food still in his mouth, obscuring the words he was trying to say. Colette was used to it, and did not grimace; instead she pulled a napkin from the cannister and handed it to him, since it was likely to spill out of his mouth sooner or later. “Yes,” she said. “I've extended a scholarship to the younger brother of a woman I'm interested in. That is, by definition, a conflict of interest, no matter how talented or knowledgeable the boy is.”

Lloyd frowned at that comment, and he took another bite from his burger before he had even finished the first one. “What if you, like – ”

“Lloyd.”

“Sorry.” Lloyd swallowed once, chewed for a moment, swallowed again, and then he took a long drink. He spoke again. “What if you didn't ask her out until after the mentorship was over? It's not gonna be super long, and it could just be as if you became interested in her after the whole thing happened, so what's the big deal?”

Colette sighed gently, looking down at the untouched salad in front of her. “No. I think that would actually be worse, Lloyd. Because then I'd be _hiding_ it, and I would most definitely be under suspicion for that.”

Lloyd let out a small groan, shaking his head. “Man, you're right, Colette. I don't know – I don't know if there's any way out of being held under some kind of suspicion, one way or another.” Colette felt her heart sink, and it must have shown on her face, because Lloyd quickly said, “But you know what? I'll look into it. I don't have the laws out in front of me, you know? I'll definitely see what I can find out for you.”

“Thank you, Lloyd.” The relief is overwhelming, and Colette laughed gently. Even though Lloyd promised her absolutely nothing, it did her so much good to hear that he'd look into it for her. Because when Lloyd agreed to do something for a friend, he put his _all_ into it.

He smiled brightly at her. “Anytime, Colette.” And without missing a beat, he pointed at her salad. “Now eat. Don't make me whip out my badge and command you to do it.”

Colette considered rolling her eyes, but she decided against it, instead picking up her fork. She knew where the concern came from, and she knew that if she addressed it directly, Lloyd would get upset. She took a bite of her salad, and Lloyd visibly relaxed; he picked up his burger again, as well.

“I've been in recovery for over a decade, Lloyd,” she said, her voice low so as not to be heard by anyone around them. She couldn't look at him as she said it; not because she was lying, but because she knew he knew this. “I don't need you to act like we're back in high school again.”

The air was heavy for a moment, and quiet, despite the buzz of the cafe around them. Colette felt almost like she was suffocating with every moment that passed. _Think of anything but the food_ , she told herself sternly; _anything_ _but the food._

Finally Lloyd sighed; she still couldn't look up at him. “Sorry, Colette.”

She nodded, and when her mouth was clear of leaves of salad, she said, “It's okay. I forgive you.”

The silence stretched for another moment until Lloyd started talking about his most recent talk with Genis, and they let the conversation drift to more menial topics.

* * *

 

It was at around two AM several nights later that Colette's phone buzzed with a text notification, jarring her awake. She was always a light sleeper, but usually she remembered to switch her phone to silent when she went to bed for the night. She rubbed her eyes before she reached to her bedside table, unplugged her phone, and stared at the lock screen.

Velvet's name shined up at her, along with the entirety of the text message beneath it: _Yes._

It was only one word, but it made Colette beam. “ _Yes,_ ” she whispered to herself in the quiet of her apartment.”Yes, yes, _yes,_ she said _yes!_ ”

Her phone buzzed again, and this time the message did not fit entirely in the preview; hurriedly she unlocked it, unwilling to wait until morning to read it.

_You will tell me everything you discuss during these sessions. You will itemize what's being charged and what the scholarship covers. You will be completely transparent with Laphicet and I both._

It was a bit like reading the terms and conditions, but honestly, Colette couldn't bring it in herself to object. She said _yes_ , after all! What more could Colette have asked for?

Then came a subsequent text.

_You will not take advantage of this mentorship in any way. I reserve the right to terminate this contract at any time._

Colette deflated, and she leaned back into the mattress. Somehow, some way, Velvet had seen through her. Velvet had seen what Colette saw when she looked at her, and Velvet did not reciprocate.

She put her phone back on the end table, but she couldn't find it in herself to plug it back in. Her thoughts swirled around her, and she closed her eyes, trying to shut them out.

She wouldn't even need Lloyd's help. Velvet was shutting her down. That's all there was to it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like the new work title... I think it's much better (even if the majority of this work has nothing to do with food at all but, you know, hush, it's a metaphor or whatever). Sorry this chapter is so short! Or at least it feels short, but actually it's not by much orz
> 
> Summary for those who skipped: When Colette and Velvet have a moment alone, Colette offers Laphicet a mentorship. When Velvet shows hesitation because of budgeting, Colette extends a scholarship. Velvet says she'll consider it. When Colette and Lloyd go out to lunch, Colette reveals that she's unsure if she made the right choice in doing so, given that she's got a thing for Velvet. Lloyd agrees to see if he can figure out a way for the two of them to get together, and upon noticing that she hasn't taken a bite of her food yet, threatens to use his "badge" to make her eat. When Velvet texts Colette to say she'll agree to this mentorship and the scholarship, she also tells Colette that she won't allow Colette to take advantage of this mentorship in any way. Colette believes Velvet has realized her feelings and is rejecting them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Velvet has a crisis, and Rokurou offers her a solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note again the added tags; there's reference to child abuse in this chapter, though it's not explicit in any way.

Several weeks passed. Every Thursday night, Laphicet would describe to Velvet everything he had learned in his lesson with Colette. Velvet tried to encourage him however she could, even if lots of the things he was talking about went over her head. She didn't speak often with Colette, though the woman seemed more withdrawn over text than usual. Velvet thought she might be imagining things, or maybe that Colette was just tired. She did seem to have a busy schedule.

Work went well. There weren't many big criminals in a town like this; the biggest ones she had to deal with were caught on petty thievery or shoplifting. Most of the time, it was just dealing with unpaid speeding tickets.

And then one day, while Velvet was on the job, she received a call from an unknown number. As usual, she ignored it, and it wasn't until she was on her lunch break that she checked the voicemail. The voice she heard was like nails on a chalkboard.

“Velvet. We need to talk.”

Before the rest of the message could play, Velvet slammed the 'delete' button, but her grip shook, too tight. Though she sat in the break room, her homemade lunch in front of her, she found herself without an appetite.

It had been _years_. Why was he contacting her now? Didn't he understand why she'd _left_? It wasn't a decision made with a light heart! Did he really think that, whatever it was he wanted to discuss, she was really going to listen to him?

After what he did to Laphicet, did he really think he had the fucking _right_?!

“Velvet?”

She looked up, startled by the familiar voice cutting through everything. Rokurou stood next to her, his chair pulled out and a bag of fast food in his hands, and his dark eyes were on her. He glanced from her face down to the phone in her hands, and when she followed his gaze, she realized she had caused the case to crack.

“Shit,” she whispered, and she dropped the phone onto the table. She'd just bought that damned thing a few months ago; now she was going to have buy another new case. Maybe she should just shell out the money for one of those cases that were advertised as 'military grade.' She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, irritated.

“You all right?” Rokurou asked as he took his seat. Velvet felt a pang of guilt; his concern wasn't misplaced, but she didn't think he could help here. “You had the scariest expression on your face I've ever seen. And that's saying something, because even your normal face is scary.”

“I'm fine,” Velvet grunted, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. She glowered at the food in front of her and wondered how the hell he'd even _gotten_ her number—

No, it didn't matter; he had the money and resources to find her. The fact that he hadn't contacted her before now was a blessing. It had always only been a matter of time, and Velvet was an _idiot_ for not figuring that out sooner.

“Velvet.” Again, Rokurou's voice cut through everything, and Velvet looked up. His brows were furrowed, a frown worrying at his lips. It was an expression that wasn't like him at all. “You can't do this.”

“Do what?” Velvet asked, her irritation making her even pricklier than she usually was. “What is it that I'm _doing_ , Rokurou?”

“In all the years I've known you, you've _never_ been the type of girl to starve herself.” She opened her mouth to snap back, but Rokurou didn't give her the chance. “So if the expression on your face and the way you nearly pulverized your phone didn't clue me in enough, _that_ sure as hell does. Now how about you stop giving me the cold shoulder and let me _help you_ , huh?”

It stung more than it should have. Still, Velvet looked down at her phone and wondered how she was supposed to talk to him about this – she hadn't told _anyone_ about what happened with Artorius. Was she really supposed to just spill all of it now, to _Rokurou_ , of all people?

A moment later, Rokurou spoke again, his voice softer. “I _am_ supposed to be your boyfriend. You don't really make it easy for me to be there for you.”

“It's not your fault,” Velvet said, and that guilt cut through her again as she met his eyes. He looked hurt, even despite what she just said. “This is the way I've always been. I don't open up to people, and I told you that when you asked me out.”

“And I remember,” he said without missing a beat. “I knew that even before you tried to warn me about it, because it's so obvious. But damn, Velvet, it's starting to feel like you don't trust me.”

“Of course I do,” Velvet replied. “Shit, Rokurou, you know I do.”

“You don't trust me enough to introduce me to Laphicet.”

“That's _different!_ ”

No – shit, this wasn't going anywhere. She held up a hand before Rokurou could say another word, letting out a heavy sigh. “I... I'll explain. But I don't think I could give you the entire story over lunch. Meet me for dinner after work?”

“Sure thing,” he said, and only then did he open up his bag of food and start to eat. It was so typical a response for him that it almost made her laugh.

She wasn't sure if she was going to be _at all_ prepared for this, and yet Rokurou went on as if it were nothing. And maybe he did that because he _knew_ just how monumental this was for her to agree to this, but it still made her anxious. As if he was expecting her to not only do it, but to do it without reluctance, and for it to be easy.

He wouldn't expect that of her. But she was terrified of it anyway.

* * *

Velvet called Colette after work to make sure Laphicet had arrangements for dinner. She seemed happy when she picked up the phone, though Velvet didn't know why; Colette was more than willing to take the boy somewhere to eat. “I know a very good chef,” she'd said. “I think he and Laphicet would be good friends.” Velvet wasn't quite sure what that meant, but she was glad that they wouldn't be alone.

She and Rokurou drove in the same car to a small diner that wasn't far from the station. The ride was tense, and classic rock played in the background. Then Rokurou cracked a small joke, something nonsensical about the artist that was playing, and Velvet felt herself ease. They made eye contact, Rokurou grinned, and then he cracked another, one that was worse simply because he knew it made her happy. And she didn't laugh, but she did stop scowling.

He was too good for her. Sometimes Velvet wondered why he was still around when she was such a pain to care for.

They sat at a booth, and it wasn't until they put in their orders and had their drinks in front of them that Rokurou allowed the light-hearted atmosphere to drop. He didn't say anything, and that was what tipped her off; his expression became somber and his mouth closed, and he met her eyes with a fierce gaze.

She knew him well enough to know he was asking her to start talking, even if the thought was one that turned her stomach. She closed her hands around the black coffee in front of her, and she sighed, dropping her head. The gaze was too much to bear while she was divulging her life story.

God, her _life story._ She'd never told anyone about this. What the hell was she doing?

“A long time ago,” she said, lowering her voice so that others wouldn't overhear. “Laphicet and I lived with our older sister, Celica, and her husband, Artorius.”

Just _saying_ his name felt dangerous; as if he was going to materialize next to them, summoned by the word alone. As if he was a demon. The word wasn't too far from the truth.

“We were happy,” she continued. “Celica became expectant, and we were happy. It felt like our lives were coming together. And then, while Celica and Artorius were out, they were the victims of a hit-and-run. Celica died, but Artorius survived.”

What would their lives be like if Artorius had been the one to die? It was easy to imagine a world in which their lives were perfect, serene, and joyful. Dwelling on it, however, wasn't productive, and Velvet forbade herself from daydreaming of another life.

“All of us were distraught, but this changed Artorius. He withdrew from us, and focused solely on his career. Family must have lost meaning to him, because some months later, I came home to find him berating Laphicet, with his hand raised.”

She could still hear the words, echoing in her head; _You're always in the way of everyone around you – you're a burden on the adults here, and always have been – you're no prodigy if you can't even figure that out—!_

Her hands clenched, her gut rolling with anger, and she lifted her head, meeting Rokurou's gaze again. She felt the heat of the ceramic mug against her palms and wished it was her own, so she could crush it. “I want to make it clear that I was unaware of Artorius doing this,” she said. “Laphicet said he did this on a regular basis, and so I kicked Artorius out.”

Artorius made more money than she did; he was resourceful, clever, and he had connections. Velvet knew that he wouldn't die out on the streets, but part of her spitefully wished he had.

“Since then I've broken off all contact with him. I sold all of the items he left behind, we moved, I've deleted all social media accounts. I've been keeping an eye on any news source that reports about him, to be safe; he's become CEO now, I've heard. But he found me, Rokurou, and I don't know what he wants from me, but he can't have it.”

Rokurou nodded. He had been still, quiet, focused, throughout her entire explanation, and Velvet felt her stomach jump into her throat. She could see all angles of criticism about to come from him – she should have kept the message, not deleted it, so that she would know what he wants and be prepared to respond. Be prepared to _fight_. Would he tell her to move again? Would he say she was cowardly for not reporting him to the proper authorities? She hadn't been an _officer_ then – of course she was terrified. He had been a powerful businessman then, even if he hadn't had the prestigious title of Chief Executive Officer.

“So.” He finally spoke, and Velvet felt her entire body tense. “That's why you'll trust Colette around the kid and not me, huh?”

– And just like that, the tension eased. He knew just what to say, didn't he? “It isn't personal.” Velvet said gently, and she took a long sip of her coffee. It was still hot, only starting to get lukewarm. “What do you think I should do, Rokurou?”

He hummed in thought, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. His eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed, and a frown graced his lips. His 'thinking' face, as Velvet called it once. He'd burst out laughing and said, 'I only bring it out for you!'

There was a time when Velvet had thought that was all to his character; joking and flirting. She was glad to have been proven wrong.

“Get the authorities involved,” he said, opening his eyes, and when Velvet immediately frowned, he sighed and continued. “I know you probably don't like that idea, Velvet, but listen to me. If he calls again, listen to the message. If it's at all threatening, you take it to Eleanor. I know you can take care of yourself, Velvet, but it's _okay_ to rely on others. Especially if he's as powerful as you say he is.”

Velvet took another long, slow sip. To take it to Eleanor … “I don't know if that would work,” she said. “I doubt he would make a blatant threat over a voice message. I don't think he would say anything at _all_ incriminating in a recording. And since I didn't report him earlier, he doesn't have any kind of record that I could use to show Hume what he's capable of.”

She regretted that now, but at the time, she was panicked and didn't think to do it. Rokurou rubbed the back of his head. He had that 'thinking' face on again. When he opened his eyes again, this time he met her gaze, that ferocity back in his eyes. “All right, fine. Then don't show it to Hume, but show it to me, okay?”

She could say no. She _could_ ; she didn't owe Rokurou anything just because they were dating. She hadn't even had to tell him her life story. She would be allowing Rokurou to see her vulnerability, and she'd already done plenty of that just now.

But she knew, in that look, that he wasn't going to take advantage of that. She sighed. “Fine.” A concession, one that she hoped she wouldn't need to back up; with any luck, Artorius would simply never call her again.

Rokurou beamed at her, and then their food was set down in front of them, by a waitress that Velvet hadn't notice arrive. He rubbed his hands in front of him, as if conspiring, and the moment the waitress' back was turned, he laughed.

“Just for that, today's meal is on me!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this one! I was on vacation for a while, and then sometimes depression hits you in the gut, y'know? But I've been inspired again by [kittykatzvillage](http://kittykatzvillage.tumblr.com/post/164236802510/)'s fanart! I just barely figured out how to put hyperlinks in AO3 but check out her tumblr! [Here's](http://kittykatzvillage.tumblr.com/post/164236802510/) the fanart!
> 
> PLEASE look at it, I've set it as my lockscreen, it's so CUTE!
> 
> Also apologies for the lack of Colette in this chapter. That'll be remedied in the next one!


End file.
